


Set in Stone

by Ariana (ariana_paris)



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Attempted Abortion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-07
Updated: 2010-07-07
Packaged: 2018-01-12 12:36:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariana_paris/pseuds/Ariana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One year on, Peter is having déjà-vu. Sylar has a baby. Claire is angry. But the future isn’t set in stone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set in Stone

**Author's Note:**

> Written For: [](http://ohhbuildings.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://ohhbuildings.livejournal.com/)**ohhbuildings** in the Sylar/Claire Ficathon:
> 
> Prompts: basically a mixture of both the following…  
> 1\. Post Season Four-- what are the implications for Claire's stunt on television? Focus on the characters of Claire, Sylar and Peter.  
> 2\. Focus on the history and development leading up to I Am Become Death (season three future episode). Why is Sylar living in the Bennett house? Why is his son named Noah and who is the mother? How did Claire turn evil?

Things were supposed to be different this time around.

A feeling of déjà-vu seized Peter as he entered the house in Costa Verde. He had only been here a couple of times, most notably in a future that had ended with the town’s annihilation. He told himself that it was a future that could never come to pass; Knox was dead, so was Daphne. Nathan was murdered, not President of the United States. Peter knew that Sylar no longer had the power to paint the future or cause a nuclear explosion. And they both knew that they weren’t blood relatives.

Things _were_ different, Peter told himself as he followed Sandra Bennet into her home; he wasn’t sneaking into Sylar’s happy family breakfast this time. He had almost convinced himself that all was fine when he noticed a patch of bright colour in the corner of the Bennet’s living room. A child’s activity centre; possibly even one of the same toys he had seen before. Although it was mid-afternoon and Sandra was standing beside him, Peter could almost smell waffles and hear Sylar’s son chatting in the kitchen.

Peter shook his head, forcing himself to get a grip.

“I’m sorry to just appear like this,” he told Sandra. “It’s just that Noah said… Gabriel was here and I need to talk to him.”

It had been over a year now since the shared years in Sylar’s mind, but some part of Peter still rebelled at the idea of calling the killer “Gabriel”. To give him another name was to acknowledge that his brother’s murderer was gone and Peter knew that wasn’t entirely true. He remembered how much Sylar had struggled after they returned to the real world. The Hunger would always be present, ready to resurge when Sylar’s fragile resolve failed him.

To call him Gabriel was also in some way to declare that Nathan was dead. But Peter knew that his brother’s memories would last as long as their immortal host. It a thought both terrifying and strangely comforting.

“I can’t say I’m surprised. Noah hinted at more trouble,” said Sandra, looking older and thinner than Peter remembered. “Gabriel! Peter is here,” she called up the stairs before turning back to Peter. “I’m sure he’ll be down in a minute. Here, sit down and I’ll fix you some coffee.”

Peter glanced up the stairs, still curious about Sylar’s presence, but he followed Sandra to the sitting area and settled on the couch. “Noah didn’t say why Gabriel was staying here. Is he protecting you? I guess things got a little crazy for you after Claire’s revelation.”

“You don’t know?” asked Sandra incredulously, still standing, body half-turned towards the kitchen. “I mean, you know about the baby, right?”

“The baby,” repeated Peter, a feeling of dread rising to his throat. “Claire’s baby? Yes, obviously. The press wouldn’t stop speculating about it.” Peter bit back the remark that Claire hadn’t told him anything about it; Noah was the one who announced his eighteen-year-old daughter was pregnant. “It’s due next month, isn’t it?”

Sandra seemed about to say something, but her gaze shifted beyond Peter and her expression changed, a tender smile rising to her lips. Peter turned to find Sylar standing behind him. His erstwhile enemy was clean shaven, wearing his glasses and a pullover that looked like the kind of thing Nathan had sometimes worn on his days off. But Peter’s attention was immediately drawn to the newborn baby sleeping on Sylar’s chest, its tiny head resting on the man’s shoulder.

“Sorry. He won’t let me put him down,” said Sylar with a grin. “I guess I’m human mattress for the day again.”

Sandra smiled tenderly and said something about making coffee before disappearing into the kitchen. Peter stood to embrace Sylar awkwardly; they hadn’t seen each other for months, but they had exchanged sporadic friendly emails; not that any of them had prepared Peter to find Sylar in the Bennet house with Claire’s baby.

“This is Uncle Peter, Noah,” said Sylar in a soft, childish voice, turning towards the little head on his shoulder. “But you can meet him when you wake up.” He lowered himself carefully onto the sofa opposite Peter. “I guess this must come as something of a shock.”

“Yeah.” Peter couldn’t really muster anything better than that. Claire’s surprise pregnancy had been a shock in itself, but this was just… “You’re the father?” he asked, just in case there was a misunderstanding.

Sylar bit his lip and sat back on his seat, careful not to disturb the sleeping baby balanced on his chest. He nodded.

“It was… you remember Claire went through a bad patch after that man killed Gretchen? She… we… um, it was a bit weird. It didn’t end well.”

“You slept with my teenage niece?” exclaimed Peter, the full implication of what Sylar was saying hitting home. “You’re the one who did this to her! All this time, I’ve been wondering who the bastard was who--“

The baby stirred, emitting a low raucous noise, and Sylar raised his hand to calm Peter. “I’m not defending what happened,” he said, giving Peter a wry smile. “I think we both know I’m not great at denying myself anything I want. Claire… she came on to me because she was upset and to be honest, I didn’t read her mind to find out why. But it was her idea.”

“I can’t believe she would do that,” said Peter with disgust. “Not with you!”

Sylar scowled at him. “Read my mind if you don’t believe me. I gave you back your base ability; I’m guessing you’ve got Parkman’s power again.”

Peter pursed his lips and lowered his head, sifting through all the abilities he now had at his disposal and selecting Matt’s. The memories of his brief time with Claire were at the forefront of Sylar’s mind, an open book for Peter to read. He watched Claire lean in when Sylar struggled to find the words to console her, but pulled back from the vision of what had happened next. He could feel Sylar’s emotions; the hope that Claire might like him, the bitter sting of rejection, and, surprisingly, the determination not to let it derail his path to redemption.

“You reacted well,” said Peter, less angry now he could feel how much Sylar had suffered. “You wanted to kill her. You knew how to do it too, but you didn’t.”

Sylar half-shrugged, his large hand on the baby’s back. “I always want to kill people. That hasn’t changed. I wanted to disintegrate her when she told me it was over. But I’m leaning to control myself.”

Peter bit his lip. “So that’s how she got pregnant.”

“We were careful,” said Sylar defensively. “She wasn’t that stupid. I guess things don’t always go to plan. She didn’t want to tell me; didn’t really want to admit we’d done anything, but I noticed. She was avoiding me so I-- I found her.” Sylar’s voice faltered as he admitted this return to his stalking habits. “I could sense the changes in her body and I guessed it was mine. She was pissed off when I confronted her. She’d tried to get rid of it; I offered to help but that pissed her off even more... Still, I’m helping now and I-- I hope she’ll come around.” Sylar kissed the little head on his shoulder and Peter could sense his paternal pride. “You are a very lucky boy, little buddy. Your Daddy and Grandma will take good care of you.”

“We certainly will,” agreed Sandra, bringing them coffee.

Peter thanked her and wondered for the first time what had happened to Sandra in the future he had seen. She seemed drawn and thin, but then, from what he had heard, looking after a newborn baby was a tiring business.

“Where is Claire now?” he asked.

“We don’t know,” said Sandra. Her eyes drifted over to a picture of her daughter on the wall; a much younger Claire smiled out at the world, still unaware of her ability and filled with the joy of life. “Last time she called, she said she was hunting ‘villains’ with René.”

Peter remembered the dark-haired future Claire who had tortured him. “We need to find her,” he said. “She needs us, her family, to get through this.”

“She isn’t too happy with either of us,” said Sylar, exchanging a glance with Sandra. “She didn’t want the baby and obviously, she blames me.”

“And she blames me for letting him stay here,” added Sandra. She ran her hand through her hair. “I couldn’t look after Noah on my own. I’ve been a bit unwell recently. Nothing to worry about,” she added hastily, though Peter’s ears tingled with the lie.

“This little chap is a game changer, Peter,” said Sylar, turning to brush his lips on the top of the tiny baby’s head. “I’ve been good since we broke the wall, but it’s been hard. It feels easier now. It’s like the Hunger switches off when I’m with him.”

Peter swallowed. “That’s what you said before, in the future I saw.”

“The one where I blew up the entire town?”

“That would be the one,” said Peter.

The spectre of Costa Verde’s destruction seemed to hang in the air between them for a moment and they all fell silent. Sandra started to offer them cakes but the front door opened and her comment died on her lips as Claire walked in.

If Peter had ever had any doubts about the force of destiny, they would have been quashed at that moment. Claire was wearing a leather biker’s suit, unnecessarily tight fitting and oppressively dark on her tanned skin. She had just removed her helmet, revealing long brown hair and a serious, determined expression on her young features. Peter remembered the same look on her face as she leaned over him and cut him with a knife…

“Wow, this is quite the family reunion,” she said coldly. Her lip curled when she saw Sylar and the baby, but she half-smiled when she noticed Peter. It faded almost immediately. “What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t approve of me these days?”

“Claire, I’m not your enemy,” said Peter defensively. “I didn’t agree with what you did to expose us, but it doesn’t mean you had to cut me out like this.” He indicated the baby. “I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Claire glanced at her mother and Sylar, evidently weighing up whether to discuss this in their presence. Apparently, she decided she didn’t mind an audience.

“This is all your fault!” she growled, barely unclenching her jaw to form the words. “I was trying to make things right, to get us all out of the shadows so we couldn’t be hunted and murdered anymore, and all I got was you and Dad going on about how it was the wrong thing to do and the press were after me all the time. The only person who actually, really agreed with me was _him_ and when that guy murdered Gretchen because he was trying to get at me, _he_ was the only one there!”

“I tried to call you,” exclaimed Peter. “I would have come to see you, but I’m not your father. I said my piece, you stormed out and refused to answer my calls. You can’t blame me for what happened.”

He was about to say more, but realised that rehashing the arguments of the past would change nothing. He could feel that Claire was terrified of losing his friendship but too stubborn to back down. Perhaps this was how the rift had begun that had led to Claire murdering him in the future?

“Claire, it’s okay. I’m sorry we argued about it. You did what you thought was right,” said Peter.

To his relief, Claire relaxed a little as he spoke. “Yeah. I still think it was right.”

“I do too,” said Sylar, though it only earned him a dirty look from Claire. He smiled at her but she turned away.

Peter looked from one to the other, trying to guess how much of this situation had led to the future he had seen. He decided to return to the original purpose of his visit.

“Listen, I came here because there are rumours online that someone has recreated the formula and is starting to sell it. We need to stop them.”

Perhaps guessing that the ‘specials’ needed to discuss this alone, Sandra leaned over Sylar and reached for the baby. “Here, Gabriel, why don’t I take Noah up to bed now he’s asleep?”

Sylar helped her take the baby, using his telekinesis to hold him in the same position until Sandra had him in her arms. The baby’s blanket fell off onto Sylar’s knee but Sandra carried him away before Sylar could hand it back. Claire watched the process with a neutral expression, though Peter could feel the conflicting feelings beneath the surface. She hated the baby because she hadn’t wanted him and she despised herself for sleeping with Sylar. But at the same time, Peter could feel her natural instinct to love and protect the vulnerable.

Sandra paused by her daughter as she walked towards the stairs. Claire observed the baby with detached interest; Peter sensed that she was torn between preserving her proud detachment and the desire to touch him, but didn’t feel that it was his place to interfere.

“He’s changed,” she said in a low voice. “It’s only been a week since I was here and he’s changed already.”

“He’s beautiful,” said Sandra softly. “Just like his mother.”

Claire continued to stare at her child for a moment, before reaching out and brushing his soft pink head with the tips of her fingers.

“Yeah,” she said slowly.

She pulled her hand away and turned to Peter; Sandra took her cue and carried baby Noah upstairs.

“Why are you so worried about this formula?” asked Claire, coming to sit where Sandra had been opposite Peter and Sylar. “Isn’t Mohinder’s formula what gave you back your powers?”

“One power,” said Peter. “I was just fortunate that it allowed me to get my base power back.”

“And then use that to get a whole lot more,” added Sylar, visibly taking pride in the fact that his many abilities had proved useful.

Claire sneered at him. “Yes. The ones taken from the people you _murdered_.”

“I haven’t killed anyone for years. With Noah’s help, I don’t think I’ll ever feel the need to kill again. I know you’re pissed off about him, but he’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Yeah. Makes a change from… being with me being the best thing that ever happened to you.”

Sylar smiled. “You know that was different. I’d prefer…” He watched Claire’s stern expression for a moment before lowering his eyes to the baby blanket on his knee. “If Noah is all I can have, I can live with that.”

The harsh look on Claire’s face wavered, but she turned to Peter. “So you want to stop these people developing the formula?”

“Yes. As far as we know, nobody has ever found a formula to give people specific abilities. If this is the same one the Company and Pinehearst had, it’ll unleash random abilities on the general population. We’ve already had… there’s already plenty of hard feelings in the general population,” he continued, unwilling to list the internment camps, persecution and protests that had spread across the globe after Claire’s revelation. “If the number of Specials increases, it will create an even greater divide between those who have abilities from birth or because they can pay for them, and the rest of humanity. The situation will just get worse.”

“But why shouldn’t everyone have a chance to develop their potential?” protested Claire.

“Maybe because it’ll always be the case that some of us will be more special than others,” said Sylar. His dark eyebrows converged into a frown as he continued. “If there’s no way to select abilities, some might get super strength while others get the ability to melt objects.” He demonstrated his point by turning his coffee cup into a pile of goo. “Some abilities are kind of lame.” Sylar smiled sheepishly at Claire, but continued when she didn’t smile back. “Not to mention that abilities like mine are downright dangerous.”

“If they do enough research, they might find a way to give specific abilities to people,” said Claire.

Peter shook his head in disbelief. “And then some government can create itself a nice army of mutants. Claire, I saw a future where this happened. The future where I came back to shoot Nathan. It’s happening. Things should be different, but everything seems to be moving towards that same future again.”

“But Nathan was president,” said Claire. She gave Sylar a dirty look. “Nathan’s dead. And you said I was evil. I’m not evil!”

“Evil can sometimes be in the eye of the beholder,” said Sylar. “One man’s freedom fighter is another man’s terrorist.” He glanced at Claire’s new hair colour. “Or maybe Peter read too much into the dark hair.”

Claire gave him a typical look of teenage disbelief that clearly communicated how pathetic she thought Sylar was. “I needed to get away from the paparazzi,” she snapped. “And I’m sick of everyone treating me like a dumb blonde. What’s the matter Sylar, upset I’m not your type anymore?”

“You’ll always be my type,” said Sylar quietly, though he appeared to be talking to the blanket rather than Claire’s censorious expression.

“Look,” said Peter. “The point is that in the future I visited, people could buy abilities and the people who bought them were not the kind of people who can be trusted. We have to stop them before this formula becomes commercially available.”

“I’m not denying that handing out abilities isn’t a problem,” said Sylar. “But are you planning to do this every time someone finds a formula?”

“If I have to,” said Peter earnestly.

“Well, if you think it’s important, I’ll help,” said Sylar with a shrug. “I trust you to know what’s best. As long as it doesn’t mean leaving Sandra and baby Noah for too long.”

Claire turned on him. “Since when are _you_ so concerned about my Mom?”

“I just want to help her. Raising a baby is very tiring, even for someone in their full health and strength,” said Sylar.

“Not that I’d know anything about that, right?” snapped Claire. “Is that what you mean?”

Sylar shook his head; Peter was struck by the gentleness of the gesture and the calm expression on his face. “Claire, it’s okay. I don’t blame you and neither does your mom. Having a child is a big responsibility and you have other things to do now. Noah wasn’t your choice and I respect that.” He lowered his eyes. “Having him has changed my life but it doesn’t have to change yours.”

Peter thought Claire would react angrily, but she seemed to bite back a retort. Her eyes followed Sylar’s gaze; he was still holding the baby’s blanket and stroking it absentmindedly. The pain and jealousy on Claire’s face broke Peter’s heart.

She turned away hastily when Sylar looked up at her again, but Peter could tell that Sylar had caught her expression too. The erstwhile killer observed Claire wistfully for a moment, the longing clear on his narrow face. Peter wondered if these emotions were what had led to the destruction he had witnessed in the future.

“The future I saw is coming,” he said grimly. “Maybe not exactly the way it played out last time, but there’s enough that’s the same to make me think the worst parts will become reality. I have to stop that.”

“You don’t want to go back in time, do you?” asked Sylar with concern.

“Yeah, because this time, you’d have to kill me, and that’s gonna be kind of tough,” said Claire.

Sylar glanced coyly at Claire. “Also, if you’re getting déjà-vu, it might just be destiny. Maybe there’s nothing you _can_ do.”

“I don’t accept that,” said Peter with determination. “I can see the seeds of where this is going and I can stop it.”

This time, Claire was the one who exchanged a glance with Sylar. “So… you want to save the world? Again?”

“It’s what he does,” said Sylar with amusement, giving Claire a tentative smile. He put on a mock serious expression that brought back Peter’s memories of the little boy and the awful apron. “I guess we’ll have to help him.”

“Definitely.”

Claire smiled at Sylar before looking away as if she had suddenly remembered why she didn’t like him. But the moment had happened and Peter could feel Sylar’s hope. He remembered the dead child lying on the kitchen floor a moment before Sylar lost control of his nuclear ability and obliterated the lives of 200,000 people. Perhaps a change in the outcome of Claire and Sylar’s relationship would at least save those people’s lives. Peter smiled at the incongruous idea of playing matchmaker to this unlikely couple.

But he was determined that everything would be different this time around. If there was one thing he had learned over the years, it was that the future was never set in stone.


End file.
